


Secrets Under Wraps

by Tailscorch



Category: Splatoon
Genre: I dont know what to put here yet, M/M, please wait
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 13:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tailscorch/pseuds/Tailscorch
Summary: (MOVED TO WATTPAD!)Army, an Octoling, escapes from Octo Valley in persuit of a better life.Things don't go so well.(An Octoling!Army AU story. Tags will be updated as more chapters come out.)





	1. Fresh Start

The Octoling peeked out from the crooked, slightly misplaced manhole lid, silver eyes darting around to find any Inklings. A single one would cause his splatting, ending him once and for all.

No Inklings in his sight, the Octoling slid the manhole cover away and quickly climbed from the sewers, immediately pushing the cover right back onto the hole. Wiping his hands on his dirt stained shirt, he turned to see where he was.

Inkopolis. Great. He had emerged from inbetween a place called Ammo Knights, an alleyway next to a shady place, door covered by a metal grate, clearly showing it was closed, and the Deco Tower- which he had overheard about.

The alleyway seemed to be the best option he had, so he walked over to it. A pile of trash, boxes and other things blocked the way, but he couldn't let that stop him.

Hands grabbed onto part of the pile that was stable- he figured that out via a moment of testing- and grunted, climbing onto it. Adrenaline from his escape attempt rushed through him as he gripped the pile of rubble a little bit harder.

Huffing, he climbed up the pile. A mis-grabbed box shook and the Octoling yelped, immediately swinging his hand to a more sturdy item in the pile. The box almost tumbled down, but using his head, the Octoling stopped it from tumbling the whole pile- letting it harmlessly slip off of his tentacles ans to the ground, resonating with a soft thump.

Reaching his hand up to the top and grabbing another crate, the Octoling swung himself over the pile. He grunted as he landed awkwardly, as he landed on his backside. Unlike the box beforehand, he hit the ground with a large thud.

"Goohh... ow..." he groaned in his native language, a tounge similar to the resting Inklings in the apartments around him in the squished alleyway.

Shakily, he lifted himself to his feet, using his hands as anchor points to lift him from the ground. "....that wasn't... a good idea." He huffed, taking a shaky step as he lifted his hands from the ground.

A sound from one of the nearby apartments made the orange Octoling freeze in horror. He's been caught. He'll have to go back to the canyon and take whatever punishment the Octarian leader chose for him.

As he expected, an apartment door opened and an Inkling walked out, stretching and yawning. A beret lay crooked on her head and it was clear she had just put it on.

Her yellow eyes looked around, and even in the darkness, she saw him. Scared, silver orbs locked with suprised yellow ones. "...oh." She finally spoke, watching the other cower away from her. She really couldn't see him well in the darkness, let alone tell he wasn't an Inkling.

The Octoling pointed at his head and the Inkling tilted her head. What did THAT mean?

...Her beret slid off her head. So THAT'S what he meant.


	2. Running

Forge was WAY too tired for this. Someone was outside her apartment at the middle of the night and the person just looked at her with sparkling grey eyes. Beret discarded on the ground, she blinked at the other. She had to be careful with hed words, she didn't know if they had a weapon or not.

"...Who are you?" She asked the other. Her eyes stayed directly on them as they shifted around. They spoke foreign words to her ears, and she immediately realized.

This person was an Octoling.

The octoling noticed her hesitation and froze, realizing what he had done. She couldn't understand him, because he was different than her. He looked around in panic, looking for an exit. The pile of trash he had climbed wasn't a good choice, and the other way through the alley was a long path trailed by many filled and vacant apartments. He had to take the risk.

His gaze trailed back to the inkling. She had bent down and put her beret back on, and was reaching for something inside her doorway he couldn't see- likely a weapon. Army took a deep breath. He had to go, or she would splat her.

He whipped around on his feet- grunting as he did, one of his tentacles smacked him right above one of his eyes- and booked it, running down the cramped alleyway.

Forge looked after him. The octoling's instinct was right- she had grabbed a baseball bat she had by the door for protection if someone tried to break in. She sighed, the baseball bat landing against the ground.

"...This is bad." Her tired voice echoed through the alley. Yellow eyes followed the far away octoling. "Damnit, and I was hoping to get a good rest tonight.." The baseball bat discarded on the step, Forge pulled her apartment's door closed and bounded down the steps, following the orange boy down the alleyway.

\---

 

Army's silver eyes widened. The apartments down this far were clearly all abandoned and empty, and yet they still went down like an endless hallway of doors and windows.

His legs felt like they were about to give out, so he stopped running- coming to an almost abrupt stop. Stumbling over to one of the walls, he slumped to the ground as pain shot through his legs and a small pain hit the top of his head. His adrenaline from his escape had finally worn away, and now all of his body's strain swarmed him.

His ears rang, slowly enveloping everything he heard. He pulled his aching legs to his stomach and he buried his face between his knees. Resting here was the better option, better than continuing to run until he collapsed and fainted, wasn't it?

Eyes blurred from tears brought by the pain and bleary from the lack of sleep, Army let out a soft hum. Maybe resting for a little bit.. wouldn't be that bad. That girl could have followed him, but he was too tired to care. His eyes drifted shut and he slumped to the side, landing on his side with a pained grunt. He shifted, not even caring to pull himself from the ground. He began to hum that song, the one that had woken him from his leader's control, and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter to keep the updates flowing somewhat. The good stuff starts next chapter. Forgive me if there are any spelling mistakes or the characters are ooc, I'm not in my best writing game right now.


	3. Pancakes

The smell of fresh food awoke Army from his rest. He yawned and stretched out, a fabric cover ontop of him sliding off. 

Wait, where was he? The last thing he remembered was the alleyway stretching both way across his vision. Cold concrete and dust, dirt and grime, surrounded by empty trash cans, as abandoned as the apartments around where he was. Where was he now? He was on something soft, had been covered in a soft fabric square, and had a fluffy bag under his head.

Silver eyes opened slowly to the sight of a floral pattern... that didn't quite solve anything, but as he turned around things cleared up somewhat. He was in a house... apartment? He was on a couch- he remembered seeing broken ones in Octo Valley- the bag of softness was a pillow and the fabric was... a giant towel? What where they called? They didn't get good things like this in the valley. Their 'pillows', more just ripped, worn cases around shredded fabric shreds and their giant fabrics... they just had normal towels for that.

His ears picked up on the sissling of food and someone's humming to the tune he knew so well, the song that they weren't allowed to name, the Incantation.

Small, quiet steps led him through the house to see a kitchen- lucky, it didn't seem to be an open, public kitchen like the octolings had- and someone was in there. That Inkling from earlier with the piercing yellow eyes was cooking some pancakes. He froze- how had he gotten here? Was this HER house? 

The inkling turned around, aforementioned yellow eyes peirced right through his silver ones. He gulped and almost fell over as she watched him. 

She said something to him he could slightly make out through the language gap- it sounded like she was aksing if he was okay. As part of the octarian army, he had learned a little bit of inkish. He nodded, tentacle bopping right above his eyebrows as he did so. "...Yeah."

She motioned for him to come over and he gulped, coming to her slowly. He vaguely noticed a worn hat that looked like the one she wore laying on a book, title obscured by the rough orange felt of the cap. A scrap of paper laid on the hat, words scribbled on it that he couldn't read.

The book and cap were quickly held out to the octarian. The paper atop the cap was the first thing he saw- inkish words he couldn't read were on it. The inkling shooed him off and he nodded, leaving the tile floors of the kitchen as he returned to the couch.

Sitting down, he put the paper and the hat to the side. The book, he couldn't read, but a quick opening of the book showed a child's book on gow to learn inkish.

How kind of her... An inkling helping an octoling learn their language. With a quick slide through the pages, he found a page seemingly not from the book he held- he could tell by the writing style that it hadn't been done hastily. Letters in his language translated directly into inkish! Huzzah!

\---------

Forge hummed as she flipped the final pancake onto a stack of already made pancakes. A second plate with the same amount of pancakes sat next to it. The bottle of maple syrup sat near the plates, along with a stick of butter in a bowl along with a butter knife.

She grabbed the bottle of syrup and popped the lid open and, with a quick movement, poured syrup onto the two piles of pancakes. Closing the lid and placing the bottle back down, she grabbed the butterknife and cut two small squares of butter off of the stick and, using the knife, lifted one of them atop one of the stacks of syrup covered pancakes. Repeating the action with the other stack of pancakes, she slid the butter knife into the sink and one of the plates into her hands for her guest. She quickly grabbed a fork from a drawer as well.

The living room was an okay size for an apartment, enough space for a couch, a coffee table, a table with a tv and enough space for her to lay down between the two tables. She put the plate of pancakes and the fork down in front of her octoling 'guest' and let out a hum. "Breakfast." She knew he couldn't understand her, but it felt better to say it anyway.

The octoling perked from the book- he must have found the page she had written after countless hours of reading up on the language and how to translate it. The octoling seemed to be deep into translating her note when she had come in. He squeaked a note, sliding the paper into the book and scooting up to the pile of pancakes, squeaking something- likely a thanks- before digging inro his pancakes with the fork Forge had provided him. Nodding to him, she went back to the kitchen to enjoy her pancakes.

At least, that was the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuffs getting real now. Next chapter's gonna be a little awkward as the sailors come in. Sorry if there's any mistakes!

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me for how short and bad this is, I wrote this mostly half asleep and on my phone's notepad.


End file.
